Saturday, January 12th, 2019 Alive 17,427 days
In the event of a fire, proceed quickly and calmly to the emergency exit. Then run uphill over gravel for half a mile in your pajamas.
In the event of a fire, proceed quickly and calmly to the emergency exit. Then run uphill over gravel for half a mile in your pajamas.
Joe: How do we make our scary underground hotel entrance look less like a portal to hell?
Sam: I got it! Geraniums!
Worst. Hotel. Entrance. Ever. This is why I valet.
30° air. 105° pool. And thereʼs more minerals in the spring-fed pool than in the rocks they built the hotel with.
Minutes later, the place filled up with hungry tourists. With the white manʼs government shut down, this is about the only food available in this part of Death Valley.
When I heard that California legalized pot, I knew I couldnʼt stop Darcie.
She hates that joke.
I once suggested we frame Darcieʼs underpants and hang them on the wall. But she didnʼt like the idea until she saw it just now. I guess Darcieʼs just a late bloomer.
She hates that joke.
Darcie: A tea house with a view? Sounds great!
Concierge: Itʼs a one mile hike uphill on gravel.
Me: Whatʼs the number for room service?
Darcie rocks. That is all.
Death Valley is kind of a schist hole.
Darcie hates that joke.
You think your soccer mom Escalade is the shit? Make way for my 11-wheeled, steam-powered borax wagon!
The next stagecoach to Tonopah will be… delayed.
Sam: Now that the borax mine is tapped out, nobody needs our railroad anymore. What should we do?
Joe: Letʼs build a four-diamond hotel at the end of the line to lure rich people from Los Angeles into the middle of nowhere, then start a big media campaign to convince Congress to make the land around it a national park so people wonʼt be scared to come to a place named Death Valley.
Sam: Sounds good to me!
And thatʼs pretty much what happened.
Darcie spends a quiet evening writing postcards in the hotel library.
Evening cocktails overlooking Badwater Basin.
Elevation: -281 feet.
Weather: Overcast, with scattered fighter jets.
I shall drink rum and read a Los Angeles Times here.
♫ Iʼve got friends in low places… ♫