The Scenic Route

Bakersfield faded off in the distance while I made my way through a river of headlights. I'd left the city after dark, and was making my way south to Lancaster amid the post-rush hour traffic. Usually the 58 freeway would be my go-to choice to get out of Bakersfield, but I wanted to try something different so I opted for the 99 to the I-5, which would send me over the Grapevine and into the far western reaches of the Antelope Valley via Highway 138. It'd been years since I'd gone that way, and the only two times I had gone that route were during daylight and in the opposite direction, so I excitedly weaved my way through the trucks and commuters on their way to destinations unknown.

By the time I got on the 138 the road became empty. I'd gotten used to oncoming headlights from the other lane, slow moving trucks to my right, and luxury cars going breakneck speeds to my left, so the pale and washed out landscape at the base of the Los Padres National Forest was a surreal sight. The moon hung overhead and cast long shadows from the sagebrush and occasional tree. The water off Quail Lake glinted in the breeze, and the big white mansion to the south of it sat as stately as ever. A tiny roadside gas station near the town of Neenach had a lonely neon "OPEN" sign and a couple old timers talking out front. Signs warning of flooded roads sat unneeded in the silty shoulder of the road. The occasional big rig passed by. A pickup passed me and turned toward Rosamond. All was calm before heading back to the freeway into Lancaster.

After a great and well-deserved relaxed weekend with my girlfriend (Jack in the Box burgers and "Ultimate Survival Alaska" are never as good without you, Stephanie) I made my way back home the next evening. Driving down Highway 395 so often, and usually driving at night, I forget to take in the scenery more often than not, but seeing Red Rock Canyon bathed in the moonlight caught my attention. Every canyon looked to be filled with inky darkness, and the grayscale moonscape stretched on for what seemed like forever. Even though I've driven through that canyon a hundred times at least at all hours of the day, it still seemed otherworldly, I guess. Interesting. Foreign. Like I'd made a wrong turn and ended up in a black-and-white photo.

It was pretty.

I used to take longer routes to places a lot, and I'd get lost... a lot. Desert backroads were constantly frequented places before I completely destroyed the Jeep, but now that I have a more economical car I can go down the dark desert highways like The Eagles sang about. Even if it's a road I've been on before-- or been on a lot-- I can still get the beauty out of the trip if I allow a shift in perspective. Maybe it's because I'm spoiled with the view from my front room or from the office; the east side of the Sierra Nevadas juts up jaggedly right outside my window, and seeing some of the most dramatic mountains in the state can make everything else seem kinda... meh. That's why I like taking the scenic route and looking at places in (literally) a different light. It mixes things up and keeps aesthetics interesting.

I hope to have more adventures as the year continues, and to see the world as beautifully as possible.