Some fear, no loathing- the Vegas to LA run

March 9, 5:17 PMNY Underground Travel ExaminerDJ Hazard

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Do you know the way to San Jose? Maybe I do and maybe I don’t, but I do know that the only sane way from Las Vegas to Los Angeles is Interstate 15.

Dwight Eisenhower is credited as the father of the Interstate Highway System. From what I hear, around 1919 he was part of a convoy of military vehicles that was traveling from Washington, D.C., to the Presidio in San Francisco.

At one point he must have said, “This sucks, there ought to be a highway. I’m gonna marry Mamie, become President and build me a highway or two!”

So, next time you see those Army trucks rolling along the Interstate, say, “I like Ike!”

FAQ: Why do Army trucks drive with their headlights on in the daytime? Because they’re camouflaged and non-reflective, theoretically making them a hazard to other drivers.

Good ol’ Ike must have delegated the design of I-15 to either Rod Serling or Federico Fellini. On route to the City of Angels, you’ll encounter the World’s Biggest Thermometer, the Gateway to Death Valley and uphill climbs so steep that roadside signs insanely advise you to shut off your air conditioner lest you overheat your engine. All that’s missing are the scarecrows from The Planet of the Apes.

Throughout the Southwest, and especially on I-15, you’ll come across some of the most deliciously eerie sights I’ve ever encountered- abandoned gas stations.

Most are sun-bleached and bare-boned carcasses but take the time to check one out. These are the Ghost Towns of our times. The stories they must hold. Many were eyewitnesses to the dust bowl struggles of the Depression. All were stopping points in the pilgrimage to Canaan and, like many a pilgrim, they fell also through the cracks.

How many dreams passed beneath those collapsing canopies? Take the time to look upon these oases of the internal combustion wagon train. Patchwork quilts of Coke signs and auto part pin-up girls, brandishing the compelling and cryptic ‘Last Chance’. They were the prey of modern desperadoes, the foot soldiers of gas wars and the graveyards for many a horseless carriage. So, give ‘em a nod, cowboy. The dinosaurs are watching us from heaven.