Hello Everyone,

Here I am laying in my tent again sending you all an update on my trek, day 12, Tuesday, April 22.

I am laying in my tent on the side of Highway 14, about a half mile south of the junction of US 395. I made 17.80 miles today, in about 7 hours and 33 minutes. That is the time from when I start my trek until I set up camp. It also includes everything else I do too such as stopping for break and visiting. The time and mileage really don’t matter, as I try to remind myself that it is a trek of adventure at my pace and not a race or rush.

My search for a camp site last night was very rushed as it was getting late. I normally would not have chosen such an unprotected spot, but I had no choice. I looked to see if there might have been a better site today when I started my trek today but did not see a decent one for miles. I was very fortunate that last night was rather a mild night with no real wind because the tent was staked in soft sand and I was able to lull them out with my pinky. I had a fairly good night, though I could here the traffic in the distance. I woke up before six and it seemed very peaceful, and then I heard it. I put my hands to my head and said it, “the winds, the winds.” By the time I packed up, it was blowing pretty hard.

I had a little pain in my left heel and found that I had the start of another blister on back of the heel and wrapped it up in Mole Skin. I had to pull the Wheelie through deep sand and by the time I got to the road I was already tired. I thought, this is going to be a long day if I am tired already. By the time is started the winds had picked up to 20-25 mph, with gusts of 30-35 mph. Not a good positive way to start the day. Luckily the temperature was only 69 degrees and wind was bowing north-east, so it was to my back.

I only had a half gallon of water and was hoping to either buy some or fill the bottles at a place called the Robber’s Roost. It was exactly six miles from my camp site. I made it in two hours because the wind was pushing me, and I didn’t find a sheltered place to rest.

Robber’s Roost was an old abandon motel and I remember when I was in my twenties looking through all the old dilapidated and vandalized buildings. It is now kind of a curio place that’s cheaply decorated as a ghost town and has a little country store.

When I got to Robber’s Roost the wind had picked up even more and I was glade to sit on the porch out of the wind. There were two rocking chairs on the porch and I seriously thought about sitting there all day long and not walking in the wind. My heel still hurt, so removed the Mole Skin and replaced it with a Bandaid blister bandage and the recovered it with Mole Skin. It still continued to bother me later and I finally wrapped it with the ultimate, gray duct tape. The heavy duty stuff.

As it turns out, the place looked closed and no one was there. While I was sitting there changing my bandages, two European tourist pulled up and asked me about the place as though I worked there or owned it. Yeah, just because I am wearing a straw hat, a florescent green vest, and don’t have shoes on, doesn’t mean I am the Robber’s Roost character or owner?

I knew they were European tourist before they spoke because of their sandals. It’s always those funny sandals and the socks too. Like the nice guy from the Czech Republic that I met at Red Rock Canyon. He was way across the highway, and I could even see his face, but when I spotted those bright yellow Croc knockoffs, I knew he was a tourist. Nice guy anyway. Not that there is anything wrong with Crocs because that’s what I put on every night at camp, and I love how they feel on my feet! I just have a brown pair with fake leather that look a little more outdoorsy and macho. My son works for Crocs and he wouldn’t agree with me. Ha ha.

Well, before I decided to leave I thought I’d go around the back and see if anyone might be there. I turned the corner and was almost blown away by the gusts of wind and clouds of dust. It was weird, kind of like a western because all the buildings are decorated like a ghost town. Then I saw this little man walking very slowly towards me in this cloud of dust. When I got closer I realized he was a man probably in his eighties. He looked like a prop among all the decorated buildings, almost like a town character from a Clint Eastwood movie. I asked if the store was going to open and he mumbled something about his son owning the place. I asked if I might get some water or something to drink and he mumbled something about asking his son. Just like in a weird movie, he walked back to a building in a cloud of dust, but no one every came to the store. After about twenty minutes of sitting on the porch and listening to the the banging, swaying, creaking, of all the buildings, signs, and other stuff, I got a weird feeling and decided to leave. I watch too many Clint Eastwood movies.

Having had that long break and wrapping my feet gave me a little more energy. I was actually shocked how much different I felt from the first six miles. It’s like I am on a roller coaster at times, physically and mentally. The temperature was between 66 and 71 degrees, almost thirty degrees cooler than yesterday. The wind actually helped by pushing me. If I had to walk into it, I might have given up because it was that strong. I turned around and walked back about a hundred feet to take a picture and it literally pushed be back and to the side. Some of the gust were well over 40 mph.

It’s interesting that I don’t give the weather here much thought when I drive through. Though it’s amazing if you think of what those men and the twenty mule teams must have gone through, winter and summer. I took them over twenty days to go from Death Valley to Mojave. Unfortunately for the workers and owners it only lasted less than five years because they discovered borax outside of Barstow, which was closer to the railhead in Barstow. More trivia history.

When I passed the junction to Lake Isabella and I knew that US 395 wasn’t much further. From there it was a long downhill, and with the wind pushing me. I was flying. I felt like that stable horse again because I could smell US 395, and then I realized that downhills are always a problem as I immediately felt pain in my feet. I just forced myself to take smaller steps, which helped.

I had a few big hills to climb and I could see Ridgecrest and China Lake in the distance. My goal was to make it to Indian Wells Brewery, where Hwy 14 widens to four lanes and meets 395. When I finally got there I was ecstatic. I was there early enough to hopefully get water real quick and start looking for a site. I have driven by Indian Wells Brewery hundreds of times and always said I’d stop one day, but never did because I am not really a drinker anymore.

Wow, what a way to top my emotional turn around! I walked in and was greeted by a nice guy named Ben. The place was really fun looking. There was a counter with tappers for all the various beers they brew and all the sodas they also make. You can sample everything they make in little cups. I tried one of their 7 or 8 different beers, but really liked and tried all their sodas. In addition to their own sodas, they have partnered with a soda bottling company, and have 102 different kinds of sodas on display. There are also a ton of different kinds of classic candies. They were playin fifties and sixties music, which added to the atmosphere.

There were only two other people there, so I got the tour. I had the chance to see the bottling machine in the back. They were just brewing and bottling an Orange Blossom Beer, and as a bonus, Ben asked if I wanted one before it was caped. As I said, I am not much of a drinker now, but what a bonus to my day, a fresh bottle of great tasting beer!

Apparently Indian Wells was discovered by white pioneers in the 1830s, but had always been a place where the local Indians got their water. Later in the 1850s, it was a water stop for the stagecoaches and mineral haulers from various desert mines. All water for all the beer and sodas comes from their artesian well. I dumped what was left in my gallon bottles and filled them with their water. I think it’s like the water in Lourdes, but it’s suppose to give me more energy and make me younger.

I had a hard time leaving as Ben was such a pleasant man and I wanted to sample more. He did offer me a giant glass of root beer for the road for free. I am not a sugar soda drinker, but it sure was good. It reminded me of when I was a kid, when sodas tasted so different and were a special treat.

I spent so much time at Indian Wells that I was a bit worried that I might not find a site. As it turned out, I found a fairly nice camp site about a half mile from Indian Wells. It backs to a little hill and there was a fairly large bushes on the windward side. The wind settled down, as usually, when I was setting up. Since then, and now, it is howling. The tent is shaking like crazy. The ground is real dense and gravel instead of sand, and the stakes were hard to drive into the ground so it should be secure. I also placed large rocks on top of the stakes for extra security. All I can do now is hope and pray the tent and stakes hold up. The winds, the winds!

Hope to keep you updated tomorrow.

Best to all, and please keep good thoughts, prayers, and blessings, going my way,
Ted

Next Post: Day 13