Nashville was nice today, but my head is admittedly still wandering the desert of Joshua Tree, CA. Here’s the recap:
Rick and I flew out of Nashville on Friday to the bright (and overwhelmingly unhinged) streets of Las Vegas. Flight was commemorative if only because Rick asked the guy between us, “Are you Rod Stewart?” (He wasn’t, but he was Dolly Parton’s drummer, and old-school prog rocker, and a part-time stem cell enthusiast.)
Vegas felt like a brief stop on the way to something bigger. We wandered the streets for a while before settling into O’Shea’s — easily the most white-trash casino on the strip, but cheap and ace for people watching. I mostly laughed at sorority girls dancing enthusiastically to the worst cover band I’ve ever heard and dealt with the bad choice of a falafel burger from earlier.
Saturday began early — rental car pick up, Whole Foods for luxuries, Panera for breakfast, REI for fuel (and a hat — thanks to the money I managed to not flush away gambling), the grocery store for $100 in snacks, and then the long drive through the Mojave. By the time we reached Joshua Tree (NOT at the foot of Mount Shasta, although we’ve seen the signs), the sun was getting low. We found our campsite, discovered that we had perfect cell reception, and made contact with Brad and Jamie — who were climbing a mountain nearby. In an awesome experiment, we discovered how well sound travels through the desert AND I had bromance proclaimed for me from a mountaintop. Beat that. Whole Foods Box Wine and steak and veggies closed out the day, and the weather was perfect. I waxed about the beauty of life on my phone, and slept like a rock in my tent.