Mesquite Flat. Scotty’s Castle Road. I’ve got my thumb out in a sand storm. Cant even see Stovepipe. Not much traffic.
I’ve just come out of an unusual and beautiful remote canyon in the Grapevine Mountains called Titanothere, named after a feeble minded dinosaur, an ancestor of the modern day rhinoceros. Some guy found its bones in there.
I spent the night up there, with the sagebrush and Mormon Tea, at five thousand feet.
I got pummeled by a freezing wind. It was so cold I didn’t watch star tv, instead I hid my head. For eleven hours I cowboy camped, wrapped so tight in a quilt my arms went numb and my elbows creaked when I unraveled them in the morning.
That wind beat me up all the way to the road.
The second car pulls over and I jump in the back next to a sweet 88 year old woman with pink frames, “Hi I’m Pinky” she says. “Do you like jokes?”