I’d wanted to ride by Big Bear Lake, but a wise weather check revealed they got a foot of snow last night. Instead, John rode with me as far as Barstow, following historic Route 66. I continued along 66, eventually pitching my tent behind a large bush at a defunct rest stop just past Cadiz Summit. I crawled inside just as the sun dipped below the mountains. I’ve never felt so remote, and yet the desert was beautiful in the moonlight. I could hear cars coming for minutes before they would finally pass me (only 3 did, through the night).