It took both of us to close my now overstuffed suitcase. The melting snow crunched beneath our tires as we backed out of the driveway. We knew we had a long day of driving ahead of us. The plan was to drive to Ventura, California, have dinner with relatives, then drive back to the interstate and spend the night in Bakersfield. It was a crazy plan, I admit, but it meant we didn't have to choose between seeing family, and seeing Yosemite - we could do both!
Almost immediately west of Flagstaff, the junipers replaced the ponderosa pines, and rolling hills were replaced with the flat arid desert. Warning signs for ice gave way to warning signs for brush fires. Other signs asked drivers to please share the road with cyclists, and asked cyclists to please stay on the shoulder. And yes, we saw cyclists, on the Interstate, with a posted speed limit of 75 mph!!!
There were no rivers or streams at all, only washes, which are basically dry river beds. The washes even have names, just like a river would. It is strange to see a name on a highway sign for something that isn't actually there. The washes carry water on the rare occasions when the desert does get rain. Judging from my view out the window, it must be quite dramatic.
By 11:00 am it was 82°, and we entered the Pacific Time Zone, crossing the Colorado River into California. It was the first big water we have crossed since the Mississippi River. We slowed to 55 mph to go through a small town. Ron had a Sammy Hagar moment, singing "I can't drive 55!" It was there that I saw a very strange sight in someone's backyard- a trailer with two jet skis. I realized we haven't seen any boats in a thousand miles, maybe more.
Although we were still in the desert, the flat terrain became rolling hills, which were now covered in fields of blooming cacti, beautiful against the backdrop of the distant snow-capped mountains. We still had hundreds of miles to go. California is huge.
Finally, the end of I-40 was near. Barstow. Ron had been waiting for this moment for what must seem like a lifetime. Would there be fireworks, a parade? At least a commemorative archway announcing the termination/beginning point of this great highway, yes? But there was nothing. We were on I-40, then we were on I-15. Ron just smiled. It wasn't what he expected, but he has learned to expect the unexpected.
The relentless desert stretched on as we headed east. And then suddenly, it was green. Everything turned green. The fields were full of orange trees, acres upon acres, small town after small town. Mature trees, baby trees, and everything in between, the fields broken only by the occasional processing facility.
Ventura sits on the Pacific Ocean, on the other side of, and slightly north of, Los Angeles. We did our best to avoid LA, skirting around the city by crisscrossing the mountains on CA-18, CA-138, CA-14, and CA-126. We followed the California Aqueduct for a while, which was another strange sight - a concrete river. Finally, we were on the Ventura Highway (which is what highway 101 is called here, and is also the name of a really great song by America! Here is a link for you music buffs: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nqr75DJNBUE). The Pacific Ocean, like the group "America," rarely disappoints.
The evening was perfect - great food with family that we do not get to see very often. We said our goodbyes and drove back through the mountains to Bakersfield. Tomorrow, Yosemite!
Car Talk
Distance: 630 miles
Driving Time: 10 hours, 17 minutes
Average mileage 35.1 mpg
Average speed: 61 mph
Total Trip - 3,825.3
Special Edition - Traffic Report
Location: Southern California, Los Angeles area
Road conditions - 8 lanes, each direction
Traffic conditions - severely congested
Average speed - 80+mph
Drivers - two types: crazy and insane.
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