April 1, 2024
Nestled along the tranquil shores of Lake Tahoe, the intrepid group of explorers belonging to the Wildwood Delegation, altruistic souls, along with their families, embarked on a daring journey in the spring of 2023. Our mission: travel to the remote enclave of Molossia to establish and normalize diplomatic relations with His Excellency, The President. Little did we know our journey would become a saga of resilience, reliance upon the kindness of strangers, ultimately a test of cunning diplomacy.
Molossia was founded in 1977. A sovereign micronation in Nevada’s Storey County, east of Carson City. Over the years Molossia has existed under several structures of government, initially a kingdom, then a (communist) people’s democratic republic, and finally in 1999 became a republic with its leader, His Excellency, the President, Kevin Baugh.1
The nation boasts a navy & naval academy, space program, independent financial and banking system, its own standards and measurements, unique time zone (Molossian Standard Time), railroad, telecommunications, movie theater, radio station, post office, and tourist attractions.
Molossian Facts:
- Official Name Republic of Molossia (moe-LAAHSS-eeyah)
- Founded 26 May 1977
- Area 11.3 Acres
- Population 35
- Capital Baughston
- Location Nevada, Storey County
- Time Zone Molossian Standard Time (GMT -7hrs 21min)
- Currency Valora (VL)
- Languages English Esperanto, Spanish
- Literacy Rate 75%
- Head of State His Excellency, President Kevin Baugh
Over the years, Molossia has enjoyed mostly normal relations with international governments. Yet skirmishes to large-scale military campaigns have marred its history. For example, in 1983 Molossia (known at the time as the Grand Republic of Vuldstein) declared war on East Germany. Although no battles were fought, the reunification of Germany proceeded without capitulation by either side, armistice has never been achieved. In 2006 Molossia was attacked by the neighboring nation of Mustachistan. That war featured several battles, ultimately ending with Mushtachistan’s surrender. Finally, in 2010, a coup threatened independence as insurgents temporarily overthrew the government and established Kickassia. The coup was put down and the rightful government was restored 24 hours later.2
Setting off from headquarters in picturesque Incline Village on the North Shore of the lake in a caravan of Defenders and Land Cruisers, the sturdy companions prepared for the anticipated challenges that lay ahead. The planned route would have the team traversing the majestic peaks of the Sierra Nevada, the unforgiving deserts of Western Nevada, and Virginia Highlands – the historic mining city with its storied and violent past. Landscapes both breathtaking and treacherous.
Shortly after cresting the highest peaks, mechanical failures plagued the vehicles. Albeit well prepared, and carrying plenty of spares, stopping for trail repairs consumed valuable daylight on our first day. Yet, with determination as our compass, we pressed on, overcoming each obstacle with unwavering resolve.
Late into the afternoon of the second day, we arrived in the once-thriving metropolis of Virginia City. Flourishing during the 19th century when tons of gold and silver were pulled from the surrounding mountains, the town continues to function as a testament to the tenacious pioneering spirit of generations past.
We sought to resupply and refuel. We inquired about conditions and routes forward to Molossia. Few could provide insight or direction. We gathered ourselves and our families as we decided to proceed into the wilderness rather than spend the night in town.
Without confidence in our route, we ventured forward into a canyon leading to the east, along a creek that we believed would bring us out of the highlands. The mouth of which, at the border, our delegation was expecting to be received by the Molossian Magistrate.
Fortified by unity and a sense of purpose, we continued deep into the canyon, refusing to succumb to fear. Late into the afternoon, with twilight approaching, we stumbled across a Bedouin herder fishing the creek, lurking in the shadows. In the moment we felt sure he may have been an opportunistic predator, seeing to exploit the vulnerabilities of travelers.
To our shame, we quickly learned the compassion and kindness of strangers in this region. The herder was not a bandit taking advantage, but a contemporary revolutionary, proud, impassioned soul, fighting for change amidst the harsh reality of his existence. Jay Garcia is his name. Despite a language barrier, we found an opening to bridge a cultural divide in a moment of mutual understanding. In our differences Jay extended a hand of goodwill, offering us camp among himself and his flock, alongside the churning creek.
By mid-morning we had almost descended to the floor of the desert. Bright spring sun glinted through a patchwork of clouds against the sapphire sky. A thin white line of a still-snowbound Sierra in the distance. Navigating the sinuous ribbons of sheep’s paths, we happened across a band of cyclists. Fully kitted, clearly prepared for extended periods of desert subsistence. We offered to share the water that we had replenished earlier.
Their leader was a shortish fellow, wiry, weathered; as if he’d spent years beneath the sun, somewhat desiccated by the desert winds. Baggy clothes to protect against the heat. Crusted with dust and salt. Sandals on platform pedals.
As best we could tell he went by ‘Graham’. He said little, spoke softly when he did, and spent a fair bit of time sizing up our integrity and intentions. In his life, he’d lived around the world but now explores these northern deserts by bicycle.
Sensing an opportunity, we inquired about the route to Molossia. Graham had direct knowledge of the enclave and was happy to offer guidance through the mouth of Six-mile canyon and on to Molossia. Time and time again, the generosity of individuals we’d happened to meet on our travels became the linchpin of the journey and catalyst for success.
Finally, after days of arduous travel, we arrived at the gates of Molossia! Welcomed with open arms by the Molossian first family, treated as dignitaries, and celebrated with warmth and hospitality! We took a photo-op at the border followed by immigration processing and passport stamping. Shortly thereafter there was a formal ceremony welcoming us and opening diplomatic proceedings.
We enjoyed the formal tour of the country. Awed at how this tiny nation had bootstrapped its resources to establish a stable governance structure, a financial and banking system, a commerce center, telecommunications, a space program, and a rich culture celebrating their history and camaraderie with the micronations of the world.
Elation soon turned to disbelief. Phineas, the youngest member of our delegate family, had unwittingly violated several of the Molassian laws by importing an onion and subsequently drummed to his favorite song while he was using the restroom.
The Molossian constable was furious with our delegation. Phineas was immediately tried and convicted. Darlene was inconsolable. Matnu and River looked on in disbelief. We found ourselves sentenced to hard labor in the Molossian salt mine prison camp. Faced with a dire situation, Danny-Johns was quick to realize that our best hope lay in appealing to His Excellency, The President, to restore diplomacy and personal trust.
Summoning all our diplomatic skill and humility, we approached His Excellency, laying bare our intentions and their inadvertent transgressions. In a display of magnanimity, His Excellency, The President, accepted our plea, recognizing genuine remorse and desire for understanding.
In the moment that would define the success of our expedition, the President, restored our diplomatic credentials, privileges, and freedom, reaffirming the bonds of friendship between the Wildwood Delegation and the Republic of Molossia.
We bid farewell to the Molossian people and departed with a newfound appreciation for the power of goodwill and the importance of trust in international relations. Our expedition, fraught with challenges and setbacks, had ultimately forged a path of friendship and understanding between two seemingly disparate worlds.
During the evening on our final leg of the journey back through the rugged terrain of Northern Nevada, the memories of our time in Molossia lingered. A testament to the resilience of the human spirit and the enduring power of kindness in the face of adversity.
Editor’s note:
Our journey to Molossia has been delightfully embellished for your enjoyment. The micronation of Molossia does exist and is located in the township of Dayton, Storey County, in Northwestern Nevada. To learn more about Molossia and visit the micronation, please check their website Republic Of Molossia
Any resemblance of fictional characters in this story to real-life individuals is purely intentional. Names have been changed to protect the guilty. See you soon! Travel well!
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Wildwood Expedition 