A letter to a travel day.

 Good morning Joshua Tree. I have loved spending time here, waking up to the mist hanging low over your mountains, the air rich with a floral honey-like scent coming from your yellow-coloured Creosote shrubs. I watch hummingbirds dart about as I drink coffee from my enamelware mug, the gravely ground crunching with my every step. I am sad to be leaving your warm hospitality, your rich ecosystem, your curious geology, but other discoveries await.

Hello U.S. Highway 62, winding your way around the National Park to Arizona. You offer many curious stops for me to ponder, and stretch my legs, in between long stretches of straight driving through the Mojave desert. First it is the Rice Desert Signpost, where many have left their mark before, and some have only destroyed. Signs point in all directions, but indicate personal destinations, so nothing of note to me. Next, it is the Rice Shoe Tree, the remains of a gas station from a bygone era, falling into ruin now, and hung with  old shoes like ornaments in a Christmas tree. I don't know if you are some sort of art installment, or just a collection of people's junk, but you certain beg to be contemplated, and of course added to. Fallen footwear are gleefully tossed in the air with hopes of landing successfully on the pile, or at least close to it. The wind catches errants flipflops and sends them soaring into the desert. There is much laughter.

Welcome to...

Thank you California for being such a fun place to explore, even though I really only saw a small part of your beauty. And hello Arizona, just on the other side of the Colorado river. Your rough roads, full of potholes and covered in tar lines, remind me so much of home that it is just as unenjoyable driving on them. 

Del Taco Tamales

Thanks for a decent lunch, Kingman, especially since I have seen so many Del Tacos shops since starting this journey, and finally got a chance to enjoy a meal. The tamales were filling and spicy, but I am sure that I could have had better elsewhere, likely from the man I saw on the side of the road in Yucca Valley, with his cardboard signs and cooler full of HOT TAMALES. I regret not stopping there first. And thank you for having a Walmart that had just the right replacement hose for the grey tank, so that now we can empty the campervan without spilling water all over the ground. I truly wish I knew what happened to the first hose, though suspect there was none to begin with. But your patrons scare me a little, trapped in this micro-cosm of America, up in the mountains and all alone, they are brut and scruffy and wear far too much camouflage clothing for a shopping trip. I happily leave you and move on.

Also thank you Arizona for being in a different time zone, so especially on a long travel day, the time will seem to go by even more quickly. I probably didn't need the help.

I enjoyed the moments I got to spend traveling the length of you, historic Route 66, however small it was. Your old-time towns, weather-beaten signs for sights that no longer exist, your collection of gas stations and antique cars and photo opportunities that I cruised by unawares. I am sorry that you have become obsolete, having been eaten up in place by the Interstate 40. I wish more people appreciated your value and beauty, and your historically relevance. Plus, you led me to coffee, and that is never a bad thing.

Burma Shave road signs

Thank you Burma Shave, whoever or whatever you are, for being a moment of entertainment every 20 miles, with your series of red signs and questionable sayings. I am still confused as to what you are advertizing, but it was certainly eye-catching and made the drive pass more quickly.

"Don't lose your head

To save a minute.

You need your head

Your brains are in it."

SNOW?!

Hey Mother Nature, I know what you are trying to do, and I am not falling for it. It's nice of you to want to make me feel less homesick by throwing down some heavy wet snow, but I really could do without the added challenge to the drive. My sleeping options are now severely limited, since the BLM forest roads will be muddy and hidden under a coat of white, and impossible to get out of tomorrow. I am now faced with a decision on what to do next, and how far to continue driving in this storm. It's a good thing I am used to the cold and snow, at least that is not a factor. 

Love's Travel Stop, I think I love you. Not only are you a bright yellow beacon in the darkening evening and continuing snow, with your 24-hour service and overnight parking, but your 16-dollar HOT showers are cheaper than a night at any campground, and also pure bliss. They warm me up, they clean me up, they let me do some much-needed laundry, and your "shower attendants" are funny, too. Your watered-down hot chocolate is not very appetizing, however, so points off for that mess.

And powdered mashed potatoes - need I remind you of your awesomeness? So creamy and delicious, but a veritable cameleon in the kitchen, constituting the base to a hot and delicious bowl of potato chowder. Paired with corn, and garnished with bacon and cheddar and green onions, you are the instant meal I never knew I needed in my life. I will forever make a place for you in my camping kitchen.

Tomorrow, I attempt to complete the journey to the Grand Canyon, hopefully leaving the snow behind, but I will not hesitate to run back here - after all, the showers are amazing.