Stranded Outside Barstow

After my weekend in Los Angeles, I set out across the desert toward Las Vegas. Somewhere just past Barstow, the rental car blew a tire, and suddenly I had nowhere to be but the side of the road.

So I did what I always do and picked up the camera. The Mojave stretched out in every direction, with Joshua trees, snow still sitting on the distant peaks, and big white clouds rolling across an impossibly blue sky. Faded roadside signs pointed the way to Calico Ghost Town, a giant cutout prospector stood guard by the highway, and a weathered road sign lay half buried in the brush. Even out there, wildflowers had found a way to bloom.

I never would have stopped there on purpose. Waiting for that tow truck, the desert gave me something I would have driven right past.