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Tales From American Bars: Barstow CA
We could have guessed that Barstow was going to be an experience. Just approaching the town down the wide, sloping highway gives a sense of being somewhere different, as the sun baked town creeps outwards to fill the shallow basin in the otherwise barren desert. From Barstow it’s many miles to anywhere, its nearest neighbours being a long drive away across the unforgiving desert which stretches to the horizon in every direction. Heat hazes shimmer above the asphalt and the early evening sun, still blistering and intense, creates dazzling reflections in windows and windshields. The broad main highway sprouts giant signs – McDonalds, Starbucks, Home Depot, Chevrolet and no win…
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A Ghost Town, Route 66 And Rock ‘n’ Roll: Yosemite-Barstow-Arizona
It’s not hard to work out why we chose the town of Barstow, and the Route 66 Motel, as our overnight stay on our longest drive of this trip. A Route 66 town? Route 66 Motel? Classic cars preserved in the motel grounds…why wouldn’t you?? The route from Yosemite to Barstow is ridiculously diverse: first the mountains of Yosemite, then the richly verdant fruit farm regions, then the flatlands as the world becomes more and more spartan. Once past Bakersfield, Spanish language signs reappear, something we didn’t see to the same extent in Northern California but are commonplace down here. Over the mountains we go, dropping next into the Mojave…