I'm the passenger on a 14 hour drive from desert to desert. The wind blows through the car, kicking up the fine dust that covers everything. I haven't showered in 5 days, but I'm clean thanks to moist towelettes. It's all part of the ritual. The end of the year, the beginning of the new one. Christmas morning and NYE wrapped in a week of hard camping in a difficult environment.
But it's over. I'm headed back to reality.
14 hours. Hot sun on my lap, burning through my dust soaked pants. I read chicken john's book as we leave the desert, enter the mountains, view Mono Lake and skirt the eastern edge of the Sierras. My colleague and I, we trade stories about places of interest on this road. Previous adventures. We've traveled part of it together before. There was that bar from that race years ago.
I enjoy road trips with him. We can be silent. We can talk. I love his taste in music, his ipod playlists. We sing along. I'm no musician, he's accomplished. I take in the scenery, I listen to songs I haven't heard in ages. The sun sets painting pink across the desert sky. We're at the place the Sierras dissolve into Southern California deserts. We pass the California City exits - a failed 50s future dream. I'm reminded of my many roadtrips on the other side of this road, my NorCal adventures into the magical mojave and Joshua Tree deserts. Chocolate cake and plastic bags.
We look forward to the cool Los Angeles weather, but are disappointed by the 90+ degrees after dark. Entering the bladerunner landscape. I'm left at my door with two dusty bags, a thanks. We both have months of work ahead of us. Socializing is done. The drive is over. We have returned to our city and our many lives.
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