Day Fourteen - Kingman to Barstow

I got up bright and squirrelly for my much-dreaded trip to Barstow. Not that I dreaded Barstow, just the drive. This patch through the desert is what killed Grandma Joad (I just checked the Cliffs Notes, she was DEAD when they got to Barstow.) and I was hoping it wouldn't do the same to me. Granted, I had a Subaru and Grandma Joad was pretty much in a beat up pickup truck. No wonder people just left them on the side of the road! (Pickups, not grandmas.)

I grabbed breakfast in the hotel lobby – scrambled eggs and a biscuit with butter and honey. Pretty much the same thing I have eaten every morning this trip. But this morning I was distracted with my near-paralyzing fear of the desert and scarfed without tasting.

I went up to my room and got all my bags and went to the car to pack up, only to realize I had left my purse in the lobby.

Ever seen me run? I always said I would not run if monsters were chasing me (trademark, Rich Fecteau) but I hauled ass. My bag was still hanging on the back of my chair! The lady at the next table said she figured I would be back and kept an eye on it. It was a tense start to the drive.

Anyway, I left super early. Since it was Sunday I flipped through the local stations looking for inspirational radio stations. I started listening to this really funny preacher talking about self acceptance and how we see ourselves vs. how other people see us. I was really into the sermon, which is unusual for me. Usually during a sermon I make a mental list of all the points I would expound upon were I preaching. Because, you know, I am an expert in all things... Anyway, I went around a curve and she dropped out! Couldn't find anything but Black Sabbath and Carrie Underwood on the radio so I put on the recording the praise band a church made and listened to that. We sounded surprisingly awesome. It was moving to listen to music about the wonders of God's creation in this completely crazy landscape.

This is what it looked like. Until California when it got even more terrifyingly bleak.

I stopped for a ice tea/bathroom break at the only gas station in a 50 mile area and there was a huge line. As I was waiting, a woman came out and said, "Hey, don't leave your purse in there..." It was the same lady from breakfast! It seemed like a good omen to see she was on the road. I assumed she would keep an eye out for me. 

 Here is a little video of the crossing from Arizona to California. It is dull but accurate. 

I couldn't believe that it would get even more desert-y in California, but it did. It was so hot, I couldn't lift my camera. So I have stolen this picture from ye olde internet to show you.

Taken from - http://thenewadventuresofpattiandmarty.blogspot.com/2015/03/home-from-quartzsite-03-29-15.html because I am not Melania Trump.

I did not look at my phone once because I was 99.9% sure that there would be no cell reception out there and I didn't want to know that it was actually the case. Self-deception is so important when traveling alone!

I got to Barstow around 11 in the morning. I was so relieved to be there before the worst heat of the day. I had heard that Barstow had a Harvey Hotel near the train station and so I went to investigate. 

 It was really stunning, there is a Route 66 museum in there, but of course, it was Sunday morning and you know me + Sunday + museums = missed opportunities. Alas... 

 

I sat in the shade for awhile, but even there it was getting warm. Well, it turns out, Barstow went up to a record 108 degrees that day. But I barely noticed because of the wonderful staff at Comfort Suites Hotel.

I got in there FOUR HOURS before check-in time and said, “I know I am very early, but I just wanted to see if you could let me know what time I should be back.” Hoping to get in a little early.

The fourteen year old manager asked my name and looked at his screen and said, “Oh, we have a room available right now you can have.” I nearly burst into tears of joy. (My plan was to go hang out at the factory outlet mall nearby and read my book until 3. And I hate factory outlet malls. A lot)

So I got to my beautifully air conditioned room, graded papers, read my book, watched the movie THE HEAT for the fourth time on this trip. (It is always on! Seriously, is it in public domain already or something?)

I only left the hotel to go to el Pollo Loco where I bought both lunch and dinner so that I wouldn't have to go out again. I know, a chain, but I have never been and it was hella good!

[Full disclosure, on my lunch excursion, I also went to the outlet mall to look for shoes because my beloved Clarkes have started to smell like, well, I used the phrase “a dementor's anus” to describe them and I imagine it's pretty accurate... I didn't find any, but I did find stinky shoe spray. Full disclosure, jr. - It didn't work.]

As the afternoon began to fade into evening, I went to my private pool and had a dip. It was magnificent. I panoramed. It was that great.

 

I want back to my room, refreshed and ever so happy to be in California!