We went up the Tehachepe train circle at Keene and saw the incredible train grade—the engineer tooted to us as he went round and round two times. Carpets of flowers everywhere.
The Mojave Desert is in full bloom—a riot of color every which way you look. As if God had painted yellow, orange and purple carpets between the creosote and sage. I'm SO allergic, I thought I was sick. The air is heavy with honey.
Enroute to Las Vegas, we went down Zyzzyx Road bear Baker, and I showed Neil the remnants of Lake Mojave. A millenium later, blackbirds still whistle in the remnants of bull rushes—growing out of salt pan. Tule rushes and cattails have adapted too. Incredible white cone asters. Tiny chub acting all pupfish.
We walked out on the evaporating lakebed, squishing alkaline mud between our toes. They moved the old boat to the CSU research center. Coots clacked at us, patrolling the oasis pond with fierce attention. The rock walls were turquoise and desert varnish. Incredible.
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