Save me, I want a house and a wife...

So, now we have a predicament. We’re in Barstow, less than a days worth of driving to Carlsbad and my personal Mecca, but there’s two days before the park opens. Young, athletic still, got a pocket full of money and a mind filled with dreams. Where would I go? Vegas. Duh.



Off to Vegas we go! And hopefully I can find an acceptable place to park! A few hours in the desert, and some semi-humorous billboards later…







Vegas. Isn’t all that impressive, looks kinda crappy. Not too much traffic, smells kinda bad, and construction going on all around the skirts of the city, mainly the places where people enter. But I guess the people they want to stay and be really impressed are the ones that come in on planes, the high rollers. Oh well. Now what? Only a two hour drive from Barstow or so.
“Hell, it’s kinda cold.”
“Death Valley?”
“Eh, why not?”
Sometimes I love not having a set plan.





Jack in the Box. Holy CRAP we need these in Arkansas. Look at this damn burger! It’s some uge friggin boiga!







Driving in the desert is nice, not half as boring as most people think. The scenery is awesome, crisp, clear, uncluttered in most places. Maybe it’s because of the mountains all around that does it for me. I like my curves, can’t help it.



We hit the end of the road at this opera house. Nice rustic look to it, pretty good scenery. Eins nodded in approval as she relieved herself. Consult Streets & Trips, and off we go.

Death Valley. Sounds fun! =D



Now, as I rolled in on the highway, seeing all the Death Valley signs, and namely, Dantes View, I’m thinking to myself “well shit, this has nice mountains and all, doesn’t seem like I’m that far down, my ears haven’t popped yet. The fuck is this place a National Park for? Saw most of this stuff in Arizona.”





Then we started on the 12 miles to Dante’s View, which promised a 15% grade for the last little bit. Snapped a few shots.

There was a man on a bicycle. About 49 or so. What is it with people and bikes and the middle of nowhere? Also, mining. Didn’t think national parks and mining went together.



Ten to eleven miles later, said 15% grade:



Ok, so the view’s a little better up here.

And then we crested into the parking area. I hooked up Eins leash, grabbed my camera, opened the door, and felt my eyes start to water. Nice, crisp, high altitude air. I look over the edge…



(Be careful with this pic. 2.9 mb, very large, high resolution if you click on it. As I said, once I get PS C7 or so again, I’m going to make a huge, zoomed mosaic of the valley floor.)

“Touche Death Valley, you can keep your god damn National Park.”



I would have that the deepest hole in the United States would have a few less mountains, but they were fun.



Back on track, drove out of the west side of Death Valley, skirting cliffs that if you slipped up on, you weren’t ever gonna come back from it. Started heading south towards LA, then towards San Bernardino, but either way, we were off into the sunset.





Until it set, then we were just driving in the god damn dark. Had to pull over on a side road so Eins could answer the call of nature, as could I. She managed to kick up a pretty good sized jack-rabbit, and attempted to haul off and run it down. A click on the flexie and then my worst fears came true.

“Yew jus se’elle down naw, tha thing’d haul off and kick ye stoopid.”

I slap myself in the forehead and groan, get in the car, have a smoke, and drive towards San Bernardino.

“I did not just say that…”


Addendum: Yeah bro, haven’t talked to too many people, but there was two hot bitties at the grand canyon who I chatted with shortly. So hah! Also some lady in San Bernardino said I should be in the movies. Rawk.