I’m a little late posting this because Real Life was especially atrocious today. Some of you know my world has been upside down since late February, but I was going for a new record of ick this afternoon. I had about an hour of drive time to go take care of the latest dose of drama, and it was up a desert highway I haven’t traveled on in years. On top of everything else, I’ve been living in Los Angeles – a place I thought I’d escaped from seven years ago when I moved to Oregon. Alas, I will have been here three months by the time all is (somewhat) resolved, so in my opinion, I should get something out of this nightmare.

When I was growing up, my dad had a cabin in the foothills above Palmdale, which is about an hour north of the San Fernando Valley. I can remember going to visit the enormous fields of orange poppies (the state flower of California) in the late spring/early summer before they became endangered and illegal to pick. I would also visit ‘The Ranch’ which was owned by Chuck Ryan, the All-American Cowboy. He was a C minus cowboy actor/singer from the forties and fifties who recorded several country western tunes, such as ‘Tumbling, Tumble Weeds’. His 45 records were in the jukebox at the ranch, which was a country western bar and burger joint on a large property comprised of a western movie set and an old toothless lion in a cage. I learned to play pool there when my dad would go to rehearsals for Chuck’s country western band and was scandalized at ten when my dad sang ‘Behind Closed Doors’. I performed as a singer at the Acton County Fair and sang on my first record when I was fifteen years old, thanks to Mr. Ryan. But more importantly, he had the best burgers I’ve ever had at the ranch.

As I was driving, I passed so many landmarks from my youth. Vasquez Rocks – which has been the setting for many films – including the live action Flintstones film, an original Star Trek episode, and many others – was tantalizingly close. I plan on going back before I leave. There was the Pear Blossom Highway that was the turn-off for the old cabin and camping areas I used to haunt. I was tempted to keep going on Highway 14 to 395 that would take me to Bishop, just south of Mammoth Lakes. I spent a lot of time there over the years.

It really was like being jolted into a time warp. I also wanted go see the Devil’s Dustbowl and Death Valley. The urban sprawl that has built up since the last time I was near any of these locales has taken away the spirit of what used to be secluded areas and open desert wildlands. I saw one area where a huge neighborhood of tract homes was surrounded by Joshua Trees. I’m sure many of the trees had to be sacrificed for the housing project, and I imagine the others will eventually be put on the literal chopping block too.

About two years ago, I wrote an outline for an M/M western romance set in the 1840s. It was something that got put aside as I became more involved in other series I’d already begun. I have a bad habit, like many series authors, where I think I’m only going to have three or four of a series, but then everyone needs their story told, and well, it all gets out of control. But after today? I really, really want to write it. I want to include all of these places that I remember. I’m going to drive Soledad Canyon and take the Agua Dulce exit and climb on the Vasquez rocks. I want to bring to life the feel of the old west that was once Southern California.

Yeah. Today was not cool on many different levels. But the time warp I experienced was a positive I could take from it. Hopefully, I can share a story with you one day that was inspired by today’s trip.