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August 30, 2016
113 in a 65
We leave work and I race for the San Bernardino Mountains. This time, I take 215 North, heading, loosely, for Bastow. The furthest I would go is to Arrowhead, but we all left work late at something crazy like 6:30 or so.
And now, I see where Highway 60 peels off east and I go that way. I want to drive up to the big letter M that sits on the hills above the Moreno Valley. But the GPS doesn't look the way that Google Earth looks. I can't really sus it out, and I end up at Box Springs Park. At this point, the road ends at a parking lot and some trails here for tree-huggers with signs warning of Mountain Lions. But all I hear is a cacophony of coyotes.
I can't get up to the 'M' this way...not without running down a bunch of hikers, so I turn and head back down the hill.
I'm not really sure where to go now. I'd like to go to Arrowhead, but the sun is so low on the horizon. Summer is fading fast as I roll back down the hill from Box Springs.
Now, heading north on 215, I set my GPS for Barstow, California. Never been there. Only I know of it because of Hunter S. Thompson's classic. But I'm heading north, and the hills don't seem to be getting any closer. Daylight is fading fast and I'm losing my thirst for this journey.
It's very nearly dark when I turn around and head back south on I-15. Some guy comes by me on a crotch rocket in the HIV lane and I think....sure...why not. Let's go. The speed limit is 65 and I'm going 113.
I'm lane-splitting and but I can't keep up with him. I let him get away, and head back to the Motel 6 in Riverside. They put me in 112. The guy in 109 is missing a leg. 2 cops are pulling someone out of 113 in handcuffs. And tomorrow, I'll get up and do it again.
Posted by Rob Kiser on August 30, 2016 at 9:17 PM
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