The first traces of morning light, a welcome sight to the desert camper.
After breakfast, I took a ride down Desert Queen Mine road,
which had just, unfortunately, been graded for the year.
There's no desolation like western desolation.
I head north,
out of the park,
and into the inhospitable Mojave.
From this spot, the next services were 96 miles away.
Not a good spot for a flat.
I saw this promising road, but feeling feverish, thought the better of it,
and continued north, past this crater, for another 45 miles, before arriving in Kelso.
This ghost town has a surprising depot that once served the Union Pacific railroad.
Now, it's a museum, and a diner, where I had some blackberry pie and coffee.
The stationmaster's office, Kelso, CA.
A suitcase, but whose?
One of several historic posters on display.
This holding cell...
sits opposite a defunct Post Office.
No doubt about it, the Mojave desert is a tough place to survive...
But I had beastie, so it was a piece of cake. By now, my head was throbbing, I had cold sweats, and I pretty much
wanted to die. I had planned to camp in the Mojave for a day or two, but it simply wasn't happening. I hit it from Kelso,
pinning it across the windswept desert, heading north. I needed medicine, a bath, and a bed. In short, I needed civilization.
Las Vegas was only ninety miles away. It would have to do.
