Highway 395 may be a huge pain in the butt on the weekends but once you get past the ghetto of ugly Victorville about two hours up this lonesome highway you hit the tiny town of Lone Pine. (A town, which interestingly enough only has two bars, or eh, saloons as we would call them in this neck of the woods. Neither bar sells hard liquor. Super odd right? Especially when you are just wishing for a bloody mary to wash the camper dirt and dust out of your lungs while waiting for your room at the Lone Pine Palace… I mean the Best Western, to be ready)
I’m not a fan of the dusty and deserted lonely desert but some days it’s actually kind of pretty. Like on this July day as we drove up the 395 on our way to Rock Creek Lake, our first destination in a week of being dirty campers.
Here it is; Gateway to the Eastern Sierras… And socialism. White Mountain snow peaked in the distance.
