Yuma, gotta love it.

 

Staring into the light was the onset of despair.  Rolling dunes as far as could be seen robbed her of balance and Sheila fell, tumbling and rolling hard.  Get up, I must keep moving, she muttered as she stumbled to an outcropping of rounded stones and palm trees. 

Sunstroke was a distinct possibility in this heat, driving her to find rest in the shade. There was a drink, a green icy drink, within her grasp. 

 

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Sheila reached out to it, finding it to be an illusion. Yuma is not all the holiday place advertised. She kept crawling to toward the sound of happy people.  Were they really happy? Were they even there?  How the hell do I get outta here?

 

No disrespect is meant to Yuma, AZ.  Yuma is set among beautiful scenery.  When we drove through Yuma long ago, it was 115 degrees F. at 8 AM.

This was a post of 2014. The underlined words are from Wednesday Words created by Delores from Under the Porch Light. She passed the baton to other bloggers,  River and Elephant's Child.  There is some good writing at those sites.  Check them out.

 I had surgery on the right hand, and it is slow healing. I had 1st session of P/T. It will not be fun. 

  I can hunt and peck, so I can answer some posts.  Yay!

Ludlow, Shropshire, England OR Ludlow, California, off Needles Hwy

In 2004, our youngest daughter, Mary married Richard McKinley, whom she had met at a Cambridge, England. It was a beautiful wedding in April, when everything was green, so green.

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We stayed in Ludlow for a week, and then in Cambridge for the wedding. (A delightful blogger lives in Ludlow/Shropshire, Carole AnnCarr.)

Certificate of Excellence

1066 or 1183 AD

Ludlow is one of those English towns where roses and geraniums grow everywhere, over stone walls, spilling into fences, and along roads--So amazing that I almost wanted to cry.

I have recently discovered there is a “city” here in California also called Ludlow.  Boy howdy.  Could there ever be such diametrically opposed cities?

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We discovered this Ludlow, California, as we drove along Needles Hwy.  We had stopped for petrol/gas and were immediately hit with hot desert wind, blowing sand-like bits of black lava, from an ancient lava flow, which is now being graded and ground. 

In 1883, Ludlow was once just a water stop for trains. After gold and copper were discovered, the town's population grew dramatically. The town now has ten residents left, after the gold and copper mines ceased to produce, in 1940.

Once Interstate 40 was built, the town slowly disappeared.  Now there are many empty boarded up buildings, all that remain of the former boom town. In fact, the towns along the old Route 66 also slowly faded away.  Ah, well.

Walter Feller-Digital Desert.com

Ragtown-Ghost-Town

It is a “gold mine” now for geologists and history buffs.  Remnants and pieces of old mines and rails are very inviting to lead those interested through the Mojave Desert to Death Valley Junction, passing through towns named Baker (Home of the world's largest thermometer) and Zzyzx. 

It does exist.

We lived in Victorville, California, for seven years in the Mojave Desert.  A desert has its own beauty, especially when the sun goes down, and the bluffs turn the colors of glory.

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Depending on your interests, please visit either Ludlow.  Both will astound you. 

Please note that the desert photos are copyrighted by Walter Feller - Digital Desert.com. and Mojave Desert Photos . He has several books available for sale on Amazon.  His photos capture incredible desert beauty.

'Vegas on the I-15

Nobody knew I-15 from ‘Vegas to San Bernardino, nobody, like Marvin Alton. If someone asked what Tourist to Las Vegas bus to take, the answer would always be, “Take Marvin Alton’s bus—he knows the road like nobody else.”

Source: early vegas

That was 1960s then 70s, then 80s, and 90s.  Roads change and Marvin got older.  Son Buddy made him retire when diabetes got bad, eyesight with it.

So there Marvin sat, a crumpled up old man in a Lincoln Escalade, watching the new road before him and the desert on the sides.  The radio thing played Big Band music with Sinatra and Dean crooning the miles away.

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Off in the desert, bus stop breaks stood abandoned.  Windows broken, roof falling in. Place after place. On the planks and adobe bricks, Marvin’s poor eyesight picked up “ MEMS DESPOE”.  What the hell?” 

Just when he worked the letters through his head, another spray painted words popped up: AWARE!  Kids are just plain stupid..

Then, DES on the POE! AWARE…JEREMY.  Miles went by while Marvin passed the words over and over while Sinatra sang.

The Baker, CA exit seemed a good place to take a break. DQ was a new building, its big red and blue sign intimating, "Stop Here! You'll die if you don't!!" 

Buddy helped Marvin to the toilet and then back into the car.  Diabetes and ice cream don't like each other.

Marvin settled back in the Lincoln as a tour bus pulled in, new model with DVDs in the seat backs.  A group of teens rushed in, and then rushed out.

Marvin chuckled as the chocolate-dipped cones lost the chocolate in chunks, and the bus driver could be heard swearing and shouting. 

Just what I’d do…Some things change but never change. 

The road moved on and so did Marvin. 

We lived in Victorville, CA, for seven years.  Our children were born there and started school during those years.  A pleasant, almost cool, summer day would be about 94 degrees.  July and August were never mentioned.

Mojave Desert: Source

Keep moving, Sheila!

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Staring into the light was the onset of despair.  Rolling dunes as far as could be seen robbed her of balance and Sheila fell, tumbling and rolling hard.  Get up, I must keep moving, she muttered as she stumbled to an outcropping of rounded stones and palm trees. 

Sunstroke was a distinct possibility in this heat, driving her to find rest in the shade.  

She grasped the nearest beverage and swigged back the green slime, thinking of it as a tropical treat.  Sheila choked and spit it out.

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Mojito?  Are you kidding me?  Bring me a Margarita!  

Sheila looked around the luxury resort and its exotic décor, with its handsome waiters.  That’s it—I’m catching the next flight outta Yuma!  

She did not know but there were no flights that day or any other.

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No disrespect is meant to Yuma, AZ.  Yuma is set among beautiful scenery.  When we drove through Yuma recently, it was 112 degrees F.