Since breakfast at the lovely Ranch House Cafe, I dropped off the Eastern Sierra Scenic Biway to continue on what I can only imagine is the crappiest and most unpleasant stretch of road in California. I was hot, long, boring, and crowded with trucks doing 55mph. Of course the speeding ticket I got doesn’t help my demeanor. Why is it that the most remote, unpopulated areas are always where you get nailed? The cop told me I should take the damn jacket off, because it’s so damn hot. It must have really bothered him as he said it three times. Right after that I stopped in some Shell station where I shotgunned the restroom. My ass being the shotgun, if you know what I mean?
I can’t say it enough to get the point across, but it is motherfucking hot out here. I can smell the world melting. Either that or the carcinogens in my helmet are being baked out and flowing into my breathing orifices.
Here I am in blissful air conditioning at a Starbucks in Murrieta. I’m in the home stretch. An hour or so to San Diego.