Just Another Typical Day in California

Hitting The Road

Today mom and I embarked on a journey to the Desert Southwest wherein I am accompanying her she narrows down her choices of where she's going to live out the rest of her life.
We left Atascadero in our own vehicles but drove caravan-style after I finished obsessively-compulsively making sure more times than necessary that I was not forgetting to take anything essential or do anything vitally necessary for the safe and smooth functioning of my household while I'm gone. I did have some important bills to pay and also needed to fill up my gas tank before heading out which added yet more time.

We finally got out of town about a quarter after ten this morning and headed east on Highway 41 through the grassy, rolling hills of northern San Luis Obispo County east of the Salinas River Valley.
Where fiddlenecks and California poppies had ruled in previous weeks it was now the purple lupines' turn.

At Shandon we jumped onto Highway 46 and headed east driving noticeably slower than we did a couple of Sunday mornings ago when I got my first-ever speeding ticket and mom got her first since she was young and foolish.
It was rather noticeable how fast the grasses are drying out in eastern SLO County and western Kern County.

At Blackwell's Corner which is the junction of State Highways 33 & 46, I came upon a sight such as I had never beheld before and would have never imagined seeing anywhere other than Mendocino or Humboldt Counties if ever at all.
On the north side of Highway 46 just west of Highway 33 was a tent set up not ten feet from the road replete with bicycles and backpacks and two hippy-looking people.
How this was legal I'm not sure but given how highly patrolled that stretch of road is by the CHP as I found out the hard way a week-and-a-half-ago I would imagine they were aware of it and allowing it, but it sure wasn't safe given how easy a car could drive into it or a semi-truck's wake could move it.

Diversion As Diversion

We turned south on Highway 33 and took it to Lokern Road and headed east on it to Highway 58 which we turned onto eastbound and stopped in beautiful downtown Buttonwillow for gas and then stopped at the city park to let Tequila out to run and relieve herself.
She did that and much more by running amok throughout the northern empty section of the park chasing the myriad of ground squirrels who've taken that area over.

After that we resumed heading east on Highway 58 to Interstate-5 and took it south.
After a short drive we passed a Cal-Trans digital information sign parked on the right shoulder that said the interstate was closed at Highway 223 which was where we planned to jump off and head east back to Highway 58 in the Tehachipi Mountains thus avoiding Bakersfield.
I quickly diverted us off the freeway before we hit traffic snarls and rerouted us onto Highway 119 and headed east which was a nice alternate route for a change as we always use Highway 223 paralleling to the south.

While in the Lamont area I called the automated Cal-Trans Highway Information Network and found out the closure was due to a controlled burn of tumble weeds by Cal-Trans that got into some dumped ammo dumped in the weeds by the side of the road.
Anywho, we took Highway 119 east to Towerline Road and south on that back to Highway 223 and headed east on it right up the shoulder of Bear Mountain and onto a reunion with Highway 58.

Over the Hills and Through the Desert

From there we quickly slipped over the Tehachipi Pass without incident and down into the Mojave Desert which was cooler in temperature than I had expected but the air was clearer than when mom and we passed along its western margin en route to the Owens Valley a few weeks ago.

We continued on Highway 58 on across the Mojave Desert to Barstow where we followed the path of the Old Highway 58 around the northern margins of beautiful Barstow for old times' sake and to avoid as much of the mess of Barstow' traffic as possible.
Besides, taking old roads is way cool.
It's kinda sad to see how much this corridor has died since Highway 58 was diverted west of Barstow to junction with Interstate-15.

By now the winds were quite noticeable in places but none of it rose to the level of being labeled a wind advisory or greater.
East of Barstow most of the hills and mountains having intriguing colors and diggings that seductively beckon the rockhound to pull off the road and spend time out there.
Later this year I intend to do precisely that.
We took I-15 a short distance from Old Highway 58 to Fort Irwin Road at which we exited and got onto the frontage road south of the interstate and took it east to Yermo-Daggett Road which we took south to Old Route 66 which we turned onto and took east to Interstate-40 which we got back onto just east of Newberry Springs driving right by the famous Baghdad Cafe which I still haven't stopped in yet.

A White Thing

At the Newberry Springs Roadside Rest Area near the lava beds from Pisgah Crater we stopped and took a break.
I walked with mom over to the bathrooms and stood near the women's room with Tequila on leash at the edge of the lawn with the intent of giving her to mom when mom was done and then I'd use the men's room.

While waiting there, the rest area maintenance crew composed of five black male adults sauntered my direction from the east en route to their utility room at the back of the restroom building.
One of them, the alpha male of the group came up to me all big, bad, and self-important (this must have been the Latrine King) and let me know I had to pick up my dog's poop.
I informed him that my dog hadn't pooped on the lawn but had done so over in the pet area.
This was a fib as she had not but she was done pooping for the day as she had cleared her system earlier in the day but I didn't expect him to buy that despite being true.
I asked him if he'd like me to remove my dog from that location to which he replied by repeating that he wanted me to clean up after my dog to which I asked if that meant even out by the fence at the edge of the desert in the pet area to which he affirmed "yes" which now proved beyond a reasonable doubt he was full of shit and trying to stir shit with me as NOBODY picks up the poops their dogs leave in the pet area of a rest area as that is where poops are permitted.
I didn't want to get baited into taking on five lower-class tough-looking black dudes so I played the part of the stupid, sweet, gullible, and easily-intimidated white guy.
As I walked away he left me something to remember him with by condescendingly handing me two doggy poopy bags.
I accepted them and walked to the men's room, did my business and walked back to my truck and told mom what happened.

I shared with her mom passing thought of going around the pet area and filling up the two bags with poops and returning to that jerk and while playing the character I had played with him earlier just hand the bags to him like they came from my dog and I had collected them and misunderstood that I was not supposed to bring them back to him.

On a more serious note, given how those guys acted, especially my friend the Latrine King and the hard way he looked at me and talked to me and given the standard by which many black folks seem to measure racism and bigotry against them I feel this was racially-motivated.
I feel the Latrine King wanted to show off for his buddies and make a fool out of that stupid white guy over there (me) and see how far he could take it and get by with it.
Had he been alone I would have been dismissive of him but I didn't feel like I could be certain the laws would be obeyed if I put the Latrine King in his place while he had the social and physical support of his pack.

Getting On In

From there we took Interstate-40 to Ludlow where we exited onto Old Route 66. A few miles east of Ludlow we wizzed by a young desert tortoise ambling northbound across the road on the westbound lane which caused me to rapidly break and turn around and go back and stop and get the little bugger off the road but not before taking this photo:

From there we headed on down to Amboy and by Amboy Crater and up through the Fenner Valley stopping for a break at the Goff's Store by the freeway where Tequila met her even smaller Chihuahua boyfriend who humped her last time they met.
We took the old road on up to Searchlight Junction then got back onto the interstate south of there not far from where the late comedian Sam Kinison was killed in a head-on collision by a drunk driver.
From there we I-40 on to Arizona exiting only for a brief break at the Yucca Roadside Rest Area and then got off for the day at McConnico where we again picked up Old Route 66 and took it on into Kingman and to our motel where I am composing this now much later than I should be up but I'm keyed up so what can I do?
Hopefully, tomorrow will be just as good a day but perhaps a bit less strange. ;-)

Next Day: Route 66 & Preskit