I don't need no stinkin' 4 wheel drive!! Wait, yes I do.

So day 2 started with a stop at Starbucks and a drive east on I40. I didn't have any landmarks to find until I was on my way back west but I did stop in a few places for pictures before I ventured into the Mojave Preserve. The scenery is starkly beautiful on this section of road; lava flows, cinder cones, creosote bushes. Hardly anyone lives out here; I stopped for gas in a little place called Newberry Springs that as far as I could tell, consisted only of the gas station, a small nursery, half a dozen abandoned buildings, and a house that looked like a junk yard with a sign painted with the words Swap Meet and an old man sitting in the gravel yard. At one point, I stopped in the emergency lane to take some pictures of one of the cinder cones and as I was getting back in my car, a highway patrolman pulled up behind me. My heart started beating faster as I tried to think of what I had done ie: is it illegal to stop to take pictures on the side of the road? Well, even if it is, Officer Padilla was just making sure I was okay. Thanks, nice policeman!! :) He was one of the many nice and helpful people I met on my trip.

After about 90 minutes, I made it to Kelbaker Road, the southern entry to Mojave. My first destination was the Kelso Dunes: en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kelso_Dunes. Known as one of the few sets of sand dunes in the world that make audible noise, I was excited to take a walk up and see what I could hear. Unfortunately, all I heard was the quiet (which wasn't a bad thing in itself.) I laid down in the sand and made a sand angel. I looked in the creosote bushes for lizards and beetles. I kept my eye out for sidewinders. I picked up a handful of sand and let it fall through my fingers. It was a serene and peaceful 30 minutes of my life. (PS- I can't get the damn font off italics- grrr). When I got back to my car, I headed to the Kelso Depot, a neat train station that is also the visitor center for the Preserve. I had been there before, with Jason in 2004 or 5. They have a good but small museum and a great gift shop where I had to spend money, of course. The lady who runs the book shop is a native american woman who lives right in Kelso- the closest groceries, shopping, etc. is in Vegas, at least 90 minutes away!! After my visit, I was ready to head west towards Baker on the I15 and find the 2 landmarks I had set to look for. I stopped for pictures of a huge lava flow and had lunch at Denny's in Baker first; I also stopped in the Alien Fresh Jerky store for the first time and bought some post cards and a refreshing ice cream sandwich. As I headed south towards Barstow, my tire pressure light came on but I wasn't worried. I stopped for a drink at Jimbo's cafe then found my first CHL- the marker for the Mojave Road, # 963. I had to park on the side of the road and go into the rest stop, where the marker is located, by foot; it is closed for renovation! One day, I will rent a 4 wheel drive and actually drive the Mojave Road.

My next destination was Camp Cady. I had some directions: (Location: 24 mi N of Barstow take Harvard Rd off ramp from I-15, turn rt, go .8 mi to Cherokee Rd, turn left and go 2.5 mi and turn rt at second fence line. At end of dirt rd.) As many of you reading this know, these directions led to my brief but scary adventure getting stuck in the sand. I followed the directions which were not hard but somehow I missed the "rt at the second fence line." I ended up a couple miles down the road at Ironwood Christian Camp. I drove around this place for 15 minutes or so and even above the campground looking for a marker, with no luck. Finally, I decided to ask inside Ironwood's office. The nice woman at the front desk knew Camp Cady was nearby however she said that a man named Wayne would be able to give me better directions. He came up and drew me a rudimentary map, with the important words, "Don't try to drive across the river bottom." All I needed to do was go back to the railroad tie fence I had passed up the road, turn left, and park at the top of the hill; the marker was at the bottom of the hill, near the dry river bed. Okay, no problem, I thought. Except that as I left the campgrounds, the pasture for the horses had railroad ties in the fence. I proceeded to drive back and forth around the outside and inside of the camp with no luck for at least 20-30 minutes. One last time, I decided to drive one of Ironwood's roads towards the river and...

Right as I started to realize that the sand was getting pretty deep, I had actually already gone too far. I stopped and put the car in reverse- I don't know how to type the sounds my wheels were making but they weren't the sounds of a Civic releasing itself from the mire. I wasn't panicking yet- I thought, "Oh, I'll just pull forward a little bit to move the wheels and be able to back out." Nope. I. Was. Stuck. You all know I suffer from Panic Disorder. The brief but intense panic I felt when I realized I was truly stuck was real, not due to a chemical imbalance in my brain. It is a scary feeling. Luckily, I had many things in my favor: It was still light out, I had Ironwood's card (don't know why I grabbed it as I will likely never be going to a christian retreat), I was less than 15 minutes walking distance to the Ironwood office, there are at least 6 households in walking distance of where I was, and I have Triple A. I calmed myself down, called the office, and started walking up the hill. The same lady I spoke with in the office earlier said she would send Wayne down with his truck. I met him halfway up the hill, professed my embarrassment, and apologized profusely for messing up his day; I even said I could call Triple A if he didn't have time to help me. Well, help me he did- we drove in his truck to my car, found a metal loop under my bumper, and waited for Joe, the guy with the diesel F1000 or whatever it was that would have the power to move the poor Civic. A giant truck, a chain, a thick canvas harness, and me spinning the wheels in reverse + freedom!

After these super nice and accommodating men helped me out of my predicament, I followed Wayne to the spot at the fence where I needed to turn. I finally had my marker, about an hour later than I should have had it. But I had it. I talked with a lady who lived in one of the houses outside the camp and whose dog had barked at me when I was looking for the marker near her house. I told her what had happened and that I was going to savor the moment. She said that if I walked about 1/2 mile north, I could probably find the cornerstone of the original Camp Cady- I walked a bit around the river bottom but the sun was starting to go down, I had no water, and I was exhausted. I took some pictures then headed back to my poor car using my iPhone compass as a guide (I wasn't lost but felt like I could get lost so...). I crawled back to Barstow (I had planned on being nearer to Bakersfield but...), got Chipoodle for dinner and fell asleep. Oh, I forgot to mention that I did stop at a gas station near Chipotle to fill the tires and the front left was low. Imagine my lack of surprise the next morning when...