Sheep & software · songs & sagebrush
Lassen County, California
Sierra Burkhart

Owner/operator, Skedaddle Sheep & Cattle

Sierra Burkhart

Songwriting

Rivers Die

September 28, 2026 · 5 min read

The other day I posted a piano arrangement of Home Means Nevada, so I thought I would share the other kind of Nevada song I write. In February of last year I released my first single under the name Loneliest Road. It’s called “Rivers Die,” it runs a little over four minutes, and you can listen to it right here.

Cover art for Rivers Die: a view toward the Humboldt River from a property I own in the Elko hills

It’s also on Amazon Music, TIDAL, and Pandora, and this page gathers every link in one place.

Loneliest Road is the name I settled on for my country music songwriting project. It comes from the nickname given to Highway 50 across the middle of Nevada, which Life magazine called “the loneliest road in America” back in 1986. The magazine meant it as a warning. Nevada took it as a compliment and put it on the highway signs, and I have always been on Nevada’s side of that argument. Fallon, Austin, Eureka, Ely: it’s some of my favorite country anywhere, and it’s the country my songs come from.

Being a geographer at heart and by training, the title of the song is geography before it’s anything else. The Great Basin is the part of the country where the rivers don’t reach the sea. The Humboldt rises near Wells, runs west through Elko, and after three hundred miles of northern Nevada simply quits in a sink near Lovelock. The Truckee ends at Pyramid Lake, the Carson in its own sink, the Walker in Walker Lake. Out here a river doesn’t empty into anything. It just dies.

“Rivers Die” lives on the Humboldt, in Elko. Two women come to town for the gold and end up running loaders side by side in the pit, laughing at the men who figured they couldn’t handle it. Evenings are spent at the Star and its usual scene – buckaroos, picon punch, and more than a few miners pissing through their paychecks. Then one of them watches the other meet a buckaroo’s eyes under a dusty hat brim, and that’s the story: a love that was never going to be returned, in a place where the river was never going to reach the sea.

It’s built the way I like a country record built: acoustic guitars up front, fiddle and mandolin trading lines and adding texture, a banjo for lift and rhythm, and pedal steel underneath it all doing what pedal steel does best when you give it a sad Western story. My label, Bristlecone Artists, put it out on February 11, 2025. Since then, my production skills have improved significantly and I look forward to re-releasing it when I publish my first larger project, hopefully within the coming year.

If you listen, I’d like to hear what you think. And if it ever finds its way onto a truck stereo somewhere between Fallon and Ely on that supposedly loneliest of roads, that’s about all I could ask.

Lyrics

New town, new life
Elko’s dust in the air
Found work in hills of gold
hauling dirt without a care
You were behind the wheel
of another loader in the pit
We laughed at the guys
who thought we couldn’t handle it

Together we broke the mold
in a world of grit and grime
As our engines roared
our laughter echoed through the mine

I traced the Humboldt River
where the grass grows green and tall
Knew we’d never reach the sea
but I longed and hoped despite it all
In this damn Great Basin
where dreams and rivers die
My love for you was a dry mirage
a whiskey night’s goodbye

As the evening sky turned velvet
we’d bask in neon glow
Sweetbreads, red wine, and picon punch
drunks and cowboys all in a row
But when I saw the way you met his eyes
hidden beneath that dusty brim
My heart broke in silence
and dreams of gold began to dim

The high country nights grew colder
and my heart could only sigh
In the shadow of that moment
knew I had to say goodbye

I traced the Humboldt River
where the grass grows green and tall
Knew we’d never reach the sea
but I longed and hoped despite it all
In this damn Great Basin
where dreams and rivers die
My love for you was a dry mirage
a whiskey night’s goodbye

Many lonely months later
wistful tears still glaze my eyes
I dreamed of loving you
beneath endless Western skies
But in this frontier land
rivers dry and fade to brown and gray
And the love I have for you
unreturned
slips silently away

I traced the Humboldt River
where the grass grows green and tall
Knew we’d never reach the sea
but I longed and hoped despite it all
In this damn Great Basin
where dreams and rivers die
My love for you was a dry mirage
a whiskey night’s goodbye

With dust in my veins
specked with the gold that lured us here
I’ll wander ’round living ghost towns
where the past still feels too near
In the echoes of the canyons
where the coyotes serenade
I’ll find solace in the silence
and let memories of us fade

Songwriting

Home Means Nevada, for Piano

September 26, 2026 · 2 min read

Nevada’s state song, “Home Means Nevada,” was written by Bertha Raffetto of Reno and adopted by an act of the Legislature on February 6, 1933. It’s a state song I really love, and while most long-time Nevadans can sing the chorus, the entire song is worth hearing and playing. I wasn’t able to find a decent beginner piano arrangement that included the verses as well as the chorus, so I made one.

It’s an accessible piano solo for beginner-to-intermediate players. The melody stays on top where you can hear it, the left hand keeps things simple, and the harmonies are there to support the tune rather than show off. A few notes on the page:

  • Bring out the top note and keep the inner notes gentle.
  • Play it warmly, with light pedal under the harmonies.
  • The grace notes are optional; leave them out if they trip you up.

It sits comfortably around 100 beats per minute. You can listen to it, print it, or download it for free on MuseScore:

Home Means Nevada (Nevada State Song) on MuseScore

If you play it, I’d love to hear how it goes. I hope that by posting this online, it will become an occasional fixture of piano recitals from Elko to Yerington.

The Farm

A Few of My Favorite Things

July 20, 2026 · 2 min read

Last week, a friend graciously treated me to a fantastic performance of The Sound of Music at the Pioneer Center in Reno. The quality of the performances left me feeling particularly pleased to have picked that occasion to overcome my long-time mild aversion to the work, stemming from being a member of a pit orchestra for a spirited but middling production many years ago.

As I arrived on the grounds of what is soon to be my farm this afternoon – coming straight from signing the purchase documents at the title office – I was immediately reminded of so many of my favorite things, the song of course coming to mind. My first two ewe lambs, Rusty and Shackleford; hay being put up by the same neighbor who will be helping me going forward; moving wheel lines and seeing life-giving water spring forth from the high desert right where the stretched-out Great Basin meets the geologically lively Modoc Plateau.

Rusty (rear) and Shackleford, my first two ewe lambs

As the hay was being put up after being cut a few days earlier, I took a few minutes and absorbed the sensory pleasure of it all. That feeling of the orchardgrass tops with all its protein, and the smell: summer encapsulated. It evokes a palpable sense of bounty, achievement, and most importantly – not the promise of survival, but the possibility of it.

Freshly put-up hay, the possibility of young life, and a life lived with the land. These are a few of my favorite things.

Second cutting of orchardgrass hay baled and put up

More posts

Software

The Lime Green Dream

The lime green iBook I got at eleven, and the childhood dream that led me to bring accelerated graphics to Mac OS 9 emulation.

July 5, 2026 · 4 min read