The motel included free breakfast at the diner next door. A different 50s diner than where we had dinner the night before. “What is with this town and the 50s?” I asked. Jacob said it’s all about route 66 nostalgia. Yummy French toast and eggs.
We rode on the interstate for a few more miles in the morning. It’s illegal and Jacob was nervous we’d get pulled over again but I reminded him of our golden ticket “Officer Fox gave us the green light, remember? We just say Officer Fox!” “I just don’t feel like dealing with cops today.”
We made it to Barstow and hopped on a local road through the town. It was nice to be off the freeway and to have more stuff to look at.
We passed one residence on a hillside with tons of sculptures and creatures actually painted on the mountainside. Jacob said “That guy has too much money and was obsessed with dioramas as a kid”.
A few nice dogs said hello to us. I told Jacob the story about how Melinda and I picked up our stray dog friend, Happy, while running in Turkey. Happy ran with us for a good 7 miles. After I told the story, we heard a man yell “So that’s where Melinda got the dog she gave me!” We looked over and the yell came from the other side of a chain link fence, from a rasta man with dreadlocks who was wearing only a loin cloth.
We had our first roadrunner sighting of the trip. That guy was faster than my fast!
We rolled down hill to the town of Mojave (80 miles total) around 4p. We ate at McDonalds and researched campgrounds. Mojave was ghetto. We decided to motel it again… $35 not too bad.
The shower was Robin sized. I actually had to duck a little to get water to the top of my head. Poor Jacob.