Welcome back to Ridgecrest

I was almost afraid to come back, afraid that something would happen to us while we were here. Afraid the city would try to take back one of its own. We're still here, for a few more hours, so not out of danger yet, but I think my fears are subsiding (of course that's the point in the horror movie when something bad happens, when the people let their guard down).

I'm going to write a post about Thursday and later do Friday. The internet connection in our hotel is so slow and crummy that I can't post photos, will add them later too.

Thursday was a hard day -- we all woke up cranky, and driving through the desert was unpleasant. Summer is not the right time to visit the desert. The sun is so strong, you can't see the beauty. Driving past North Las Vegas actually made me ill. We ended up in the little town of Beatty, Nevada, where we had lunch at a place called Mel's Diner.

I don't necessarily want to blame the diner, but we all felt sick later. It probably had more to do with the heat than the food, but I don't know. Rocket Boy felt like he had a lump in his stomach, as though he'd eaten something he's allergic too. I was just nauseated. But really -- I had ordered a mushroom swiss burger! When do I ever eat hamburgers anymore? And cole slaw, which came in a little dish, swimming in mayo. I think my stomachache was deserved. Anyway, it was probably from the heat. The twins only took a bite or two of their food, so they didn't get too sick.

We drove down from Beatty across the California border and into Death Valley. I love Death Valley, but summer (as noted above) is not the right time to visit. The sun is overwhelming, there's too much glare. Maybe if I'd been wearing sunglasses. We stopped at the Furnace Creek visitor center so that I could buy a new National Parks pass (and RB found a Death Valley video with the narrative in German), and the twins played among the exhibits for a while. I was touched to have the rangers urge us to be careful and drink lots of water.

After stopping by the original Stovepipe Wells site, which we hadn't seen before, we headed out of the park. The twins were disappointed not to be able to play in the sand dunes, but it was just too darn hot (111 according to the visitor center, but 108 on our car's thermometer -- this is nothing for DV, but we are no longer used to desert heat).

We had planned to go through Trona, but instead stayed on 190 and took it all the way to 395, so Rocket Boy could buy more delicious stuffed olives (not jerky) at Gus's in Olancha.

This also made possible one last(?) trip to the Pearsonville Park, on 395. The twins were screaming at us not to stop, "JUST GO TO THE HOTEL!" and then they saw the (fake) green grass and were off and running.

I have never liked this park. I try to like it, but I just don't. Creeps me out.

We finally reached Ridgecrest around 7 pm or so, and checked into our hotel. Wouldn't you know it, the Ridgecrest Best Western is the worst hotel we've stayed in so far. Tiny, cramped room. Freezing pool, blazing hot tub. No one wanted dinner that first night, so we walked down the street to Kristy's and had dessert (ice cream and pie). The twins always used to behave badly in Kristy's and they did so that night too, almost as if they remembered and intentionally regressed. An older couple sitting three tables away watched them and glared. It's Ridgecrest, we're back.