Day 1
Saturday August 15, 2020
When it was time to start thinking about getting to the airport, there were absolutely no Uber drivers out on the south side of town. Alexi was the only Lyft driver out and about. Fortunately, she was close by.
This was my first time at an airport in the Covid-19 era. I had to check a bag. Not only was there a plexiglass partition between myself and the agent, there was also a pump bottle of hand sanitizer. These were also scattered about in the more heavily trafficked areas of the airport.
The TSA agent who checked my ID and boarding pass asked me to pull down my mask. Then he handed my documents back. In LAX, you stick your ID into a reader that scans it. The information appears on a monitor behind the plexiglass screen. The agent never touches it. The rest of the security check is the same.
Once at the gate, every other chair in the waiting area had a sticker suggesting you leave the seat open for social distancing. There are marks on the floor, six feet apart for the boarding lines.
Boarding is a little slower. Delta is still leaving the middle seats empty. Since First Class was two rows of two seats, they’re only filling half the seats. Once everyone was aboard, a cabin attendant came through and offered us a sealed hand sanitizer towelette.
Picking up the car from Hertz was surprisingly simple. The only issue was the first car I chose. The check engine light was on, as was the check oil. I let someone know and chose a Chevy Malibu instead. In less than ten minutes, I was driving out.
In all honesty, my first stop had never occurred to me until recently. Last February was the 50th Anniversary of the release of The Doors “Morrison Hotel” album.(Feel old yet) Surviving members of the band were interviewed about the making of the album and that cover photo.
Henry Diltz, the album’s photographer, had come across the Morrison Hotel completely at random. When he suggested it to the band, they quickly agreed.
The hotel itself is long closed. From what I’ve read, it was geared more towards those down on their luck. Rooms were cheap and there were communal bathrooms on every floor. It was also men only.
The band showed up at the hotel and spoke with the manager. He promptly said no. The front desk phone rang and he ran off to take care of something. The band took the opportunity to shoot a roll’s worth of photos before being chased away. Sadly, the Hard Rock Café on the album’s back cover is long gone. You can see more of Diltz's photos from the shoot here.
I left downtown and headed north out of the city toward the town of Altadena. The area was first settled by Benjamin Eaton in the 1860’s to plant a vineyard. “Alta” comes from the Spanish word for upper. “Dena” he took from Pasadena, immediately to the south.
On the outskirts of town is where you’ll find the trailhead into Rubio Canyon. The mile and a half loop to a double waterfall seemed like just the right thing to stretch my legs a bit.
The trailhead is in a residential neighborhood with a great view. The trail…closed. You can see a decent trail description here.
I've driven plenty of backroads here in the south and seen my share of wild turkeys. Somehow seeing wild peacocks strolling the streets seemed a little out of place. But, apparently it's not so strange here.
So instead, I took a long, scenic drive through the Angeles National Forrest on Hwy 2, aka the Angeles Crest Highway. Perhaps a half hour in, there was a turnoff to Palmdale. I thought about it, then I thought about the wildfires and decided it best to take the longer way around.
Once over the mountain and back to Hwy 138, the road straightened, As I approached the turnoff for Hwy 14, all I wanted to do was find a place to pull over.
To my left, the land had flattened, with some of the tallest Joshua Trees I had ever seen. Off in the distance, the mountains were topped with huge plumes of white smoke from those fires. One was the Lake Fire, named because it started on Lake Hughes Road, in Lake Hughes. As I write this, CalFire still has it as only 80% contained.
For a late lunch, I chose a place in Palmdale called Lucky Jacks Brewpub. Due to Covid-19, all seating is outside. It was all in the shade and the cooling mist sprayers were working overtime. But, it was still 105 degrees. So, a light lunch with a pair of their Blonde Ales and I was good to go.
Their tables were small, seating two and well spread out down the sidewalk. The couple to my right were having a deep discussion with the table in front of me. They were all about my age. The couple on my right had come home to visit family earlier in the year. Then everything shut down and they couldn't leave the country. So, they're still here and taking the time exploring the southwest on their motorcycle. He said he was your typical young punk on a bike. Somewhere in his late 20's he suddenly realized he was really lucky not to be in jail. He cleaned up, sorted his life out and is now a missionary running a school in Ghana.
For the next morning’s adventure, I needed an early start. That’s why I chose Mojavi. The Motel 6 had a great price. For one night, it couldn’t be that bad.
The room was in great shape and obviously cleaned. The shower stall, not so much. It's always a bad sign when you find used soap. When you find multiple used bars, that's another thing. The motel is across the highway from the railroad tracks. Personally, I find the sound of a freight train soothing. I could have done without the railroad crossing however. But, the old saying is true, after a while I stopped hearing the horns and slept quite well.
One more story to pass along. Around 8P two guys got into a heated discussion in the parking lot. Nothing physical, just animated and surprisingly g-rated words. I don’t think I’ve ever heard the word “Bro” used as often as those guys used it.
Obviously they were traveling together. In the end, Bro #2 went to the office and got his own room, fortunately in another section of the motel.
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