One of the wonderful things about living in the Mojave is that you are within a few hours of all sorts of hot spots (LA, San Fran, Vegas, San Diego, a bazillion national parks and forests, oceans, mountains, etc). One of the not so wonderful things about living in the Mojave is that you HAVE to drive a few hours to get just about anywhere. I remember when I lived in Minnesota, it seemed like the airport was soooo far away, at a half hour's drive. HA! Any airport here is a minimum of 90 miles away, and one must select from a ride through urban traffic (LAX) or a ride through the Mojave countryside, also known as the 5th dimension (Ontario). I had the lucky chance to hit them both in one weekend.
I started with picking up my sister in Ontario yesterday afternoon. The road there winds through such cosmopolitan features as junk yards, cowboy and Native American themed boutiques (I use the word "boutique" very liberally here), a Hungarian meat deli, and a malt shop where their specialty is fig shakes (you know, to keep you regular). After making it out of the kitschy and oddball Eastern Antelope Valley, I entered the San Bernadino Forest. The mountains take your breath away. They are this wild mix of traditional alpine mountains with tall pines and snowy caps, and desert hills sprouting amazing Joshua trees out of the sand. My sister said it was like nothing she'd ever seen, and I have to agree. I found myself not minding the distance (or the incessant popping of my ears), because the scenery is beautiful and so unique to this area of the country.
This morning, we left at 3:45am to take my dear husband to LAX. Tess & Buster stayed home and went back to sleep. Smart dogs. Luckily the time of day eliminated any traffic, and we made it there in no time. Having said our goodbyes, I had a hard time getting us out of the already gridlocked airport. After uttering a few obscenities and saying a few Hail Marys, we escaped in one piece, and made our way to Venice for a quick visit to the beach. It was cloudy and chilly (sweatshirt weather), but we had the beach to ourselves, just us and the beach zamboni man...yes, there is a truck equivalent to an ice zamboni, that smoothes out the sand and picks up the trash - aptly called "The Beach King." It was a little sad for my sister not to be able to swim (California in July, seriously!?), but I enjoyed the detour nonetheless. There is something very soothing about watching giant foaming waves crashing dramatically into the rocks and sand. It makes you feel small, but in a good way.
Living in the Mojave has its ups and downs, but I will say this - it forces you out of your comfort zone, and teaches you to embrace new adventures. I am always blessed when family and friends come to visit, and I will be more than happy to come get anyone at either airport if it means getting to share this great place with a friendly face (rhyming was unintentional).
On a sadder note, I recently became aware of the death of Marine Sgt. Ian McConnell. When I ran girls cross-country in high school, Ian was a doe-eyed middle schooler already on the boys varsity squad. He was so young, but I could already see what a wonderful man he was going to become. Ian was kind and thoughtful. I haven't been in touch with him for many years, but this news hit me hard, and I hope you will keep him and his family in your thoughts. Hug your loved ones and give thanks for your safety and health, because there are soldiers putting theirs on the line every day, in service of our country. Semper Fi, Ian, we will never forget you.
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